Dalton Boys Just Don't Get It
by Summers-Wind
Summary: In response to a request. The prompt: "Five ways in which Dalton surprises Kurt beyond his wildest dreams with acceptance, love, or attention, and one time they just don't get it."


**Author's Note #1:** This is based off a prompt on the Glee Angst Meme. "Five ways in which Dalton surprises Kurt beyond his wildest dreams with acceptance, love, or attention, and one time _they just don't get it." _I did a 4 and 1, I think , and I hope that it's okay.

**Author's Note #2:** This was written rather quickly, but I hope that you like it. Please review, if you have a moment. :]

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. I'm using it for entertainment value only.

_Dalton Boys Just Don't Get It_

**1.**

Kurt strolls through the halls off Dalton's Academy's main mansion. Kurt's stiff, shiny black shoes squeak as they rub against the freshly waxed tile floors. He steps up onto a marble step and grabs a winding black banister with an intricate design sculpted in metal, and glides his hand as he makes his way up the stairs.

"Kurt!" Blaine calls. "Come quick- I want to show you something before all of the holiday festivities begin!"

Kurt's eyes soften- they no longer show pain, but joy and constant curiosity.

Blaine holds out his hand for Kurt to take and Kurt accepts it. Blaine leads Kurt up the staircase, past a painting of Dalton's founder, past a painting of the first seventeen boys to enroll at Dalton, onto the second floor, and left, past artwork by the honors art class hanging on canvas walls.

Kurt is focused on the intricate, classical artwork sketched by the art class, but he can't help but feel that the drawings are soulless. Each drawing is of the same skeleton Kurt has learned is from the anatomy lab.

"Look!" Blaine points to wreaths and silver menorah's lining the marble- panel lined walls. Clear lights winded around them. The old lamps have had their candles taken out of them and clear lights put into them. The sun is going down because it is now late afternoon and the deep-blue sky clashes with the lights.

Kurt gasps, as his eyes adjust to the slight-blur present with such bright lights.

"Look down." Blaine instructs.

Below, circular tables have royal blue tablecloths perfectly arranged with silver plates and cutlery. It looks like something out of a Martha Stewart Holiday Special magazine and Kurt takes in the new site.

"I've never seen anything like it in real life before," Kurt admits. "But it has the elements of mystery and beauty that I have always pictured for my own wedding."

Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt in a friendly manner.

"Me too."

"Stop me if I'm starring," Kurt says. "At the room." He adds quickly and nervously.

"You look like a freshman their first holiday season at Dalton," Blaine laughs good- heartedly.

Kurt pouts.

"But more adorable." Blaine adds with a grin.

2.

David walks on the end, Wes walks next to David, Kurt walks in between Wes and Blaine.

"Spanish. This is our stop." Wes says, as he and David fall behind Kurt and Blaine.

"See ya!" Blaine calls, as Kurt shouts, "See you two later!"

Blaine and Kurt make their way down the hall, crashing gently into each other, though they blame it on the weight of their textbooks in their bookbags.

Kurt had made habit of hanging his head down low when he walked through the halls of McKinley and he hasn't yet broken the habit. He used to hold his head so high, and he hates himself for letting a Karofsky break him like.

Kurt notes how old, yet clean, the black and navy blue tiles look. They look nothing like the sometimes cracked and always- scuffed ones at McKinley.

"Courage, head up!" Blaine reminds Kurt, as Kurt looks up and his eyes meet Blaine's. Kurt quickly looks away- he doesn't want things to get too awkward between him and Blaine just yet.

"Hey Blaine, hey Kurt!" A curly haired kid named Jon calls, as he slams the door to his locker.

"Hey Jon!" Blaine calls.

"Hi, Jon!" Kurt calls.

"DUDES! We gotta hurry, or we'll be late for class!" Tom, a scrawny blonde from Kurt and Blaine's Physics class yells through the hall, echoing with fewer and fewer voices by the minute, as students rushed to their classes. "You know how Dr. Riley can be!"

The three boys picked up the pace and hurry to their class.

3.

"Just on time, boys," Dr. Shafer, Kurt and Blaine's English teacher eyes them for rushing in _just_ as the second bell rang.

"Sorry, Dr. Shafer," Blaine apologizes.

"Same," Kurt nods.

"Take your seats," The English teacher instructs the boys, then eyes them. "Did you prepare your _Macbeth_ scenes?" he asks.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "Of course. Who do you think I am?"

Dr. Shafer gives Kurt an amused look.

"How about you, Blaine?"

"Yes, I did."

"Good." The teacher nods, then turns to the class. "Good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon, Dr. Shafer!" The class responds in synch.

Kurt notes how all of the boys hush once the teacher begins and how they actually pay attention when the teacher speaks. They don't talk back, rather they question what the teacher says and they begin conversations. Few teachers at McKinley ever did that.

4.

"This soup is _delicious_." Kurt says, sipping his soup and smiling approvingly.

"Well it better be," Blaine says, "Chef Sookie has _amazing_ credentials."

"And she knows what guys like to eat," David bites the piece of pork off of his fork. Kurt notices how all of the boys at Dalton actually _cut_ their meat before they eat it. Kurt remembers Blaine telling him about some manners course that Dalton requires all Freshmen to take and Kurt wonders if he'll have to take it to at some point.

Kurt tries not to scowl at the word 'credentials'- all faculty and staff at Dalton have them and are constantly boasting about them.

Suddenly, a redhead slides into a seat across the table next to David.

"Kurt, Alex. Alex, Kurt." Wes introduces the Kurt to the boy that has just joined them.

"Hey, nice to meet you." Alex nods.

"You too." Kurt offers a nervous smile.

"Kurt is a transfer student." Wes says.

Alex pushes his chin up, acknowledging Wes.

"Where did you transfer from?"

"McKinley," Kurt tells Alex, whose expression remains stoic. "It's in Lima," he adds to the silence.

"Cool."

"Where did you go before Dalton?" Kurt asks curiously.

"St. John's," Alex replies, as Kurt realizes that he is one of only a handful of students who attend public institutions before Dalton and that most of his classmates come from church schools or other private institutions.

Kurt suddenly wants to hide in his jacket. He rises his shoulders so that he can hide in the shell that his jacket has become.

"Courage, head up." Blaine whispers, and Kurt shakes it off his sheepishness and raises his head. "We don't think any less of you because you came from a public school. Obviously, you are doing academics at the same level that we are, you're in the Warblers, and you are funding this school somehow." Blaine offers, somehow reading Kurt's mind.

Kurt turns his frown into a smile and smiles at Blaine.

**1.**

Kurt strolls through the polished halls of The Dalton Academy and takes in the polish, yet musty smell, as a ray of sunshine falls onto his shoulders. He makes his way to his locker on his first day back at Dalton after Thanksgiving break.

"The chicks in Cabo were to _die_ for, Dude." He overhears one boy tell another.

"My parents house in Paris was so fucking _boring_. The art museums my mom dragged us through sucked ass." Another boy scowls, as Kurt tries to comprehend how Paris could be considered 'Boring'.

"Thanksgiving with my dad and step-mom in Florida was alright," he over-hears another boy say.

"What did you do on your break?" Wes asks, walking up to Kurt, who was putting a book back into his neatly- organized locker.

Kurt turns around. "What?" he asks for clarification.

"What did you do for Thanksgiving break?"

"I spent it with my Dad, my new step- mom, my new step- brother, his girlfriend, and her dad's. I think that it might have been a little too awkward, though, because we had to sit at a 'kids' table. I made sure that everything was _fabulous_, delicious, and colorful, though. You know, the usual." Kurt explains, as he gets a blank expression from Wes in response.

"I went to Connecticut to spend it with my grandparents." Wes says. "It was nice."

"That sounds amazing." Kurt smiles.

"It was alright," Wes answers.

Kurt tries not to sigh too loud or dramatically and he can feel his eyes burning.

"I have to use the restroom. See you in Choral." Kurt dashes off and into the restrooms. He locks himself in the last stall.

A few moments later, he can hear squeaky black shoes against the cream-colored restroom tiles.

"Kurt?" Blaine calls.

Kurt doesn't respond.

"Kurt, I know that you're in here." Blaine says all-knowingly. "I know that you are not okay. You can talk to me." Blaine says soothingly.

"No I can't!" Kurt pushes the stall door open and he swears that he hears Blaine jump. "You don't understand! No one here understands!"

"What don't Dalton Boys understand?" Blaine asks, somehow remaining calm.

"This." Kurt signals all around him. "This school. It's like a bubble, where everything is perfect. And anything less than perfect won't do. Everyone has a future. Everyone will leave Ohio and go to college. The students are nice enough, but I can see their blank expressions when I tell them that I'm from _Lima_. No one has ever even _heard_ of McKinley.

And they're complaining about all these 'terrible' vacations that that they take or gushing about how fabulous their trips were. Kids at McKinley hardly ever take vacations further than New York City; many have never even left the _state_! I doubt that any of these kids have ever had a 'real' problem in their life!" Kurt yells, the frustration that he had been bottling up, finally pouring out.

"'Real' problems?" Blaine asks, leaning against the wall, honestly interested.

"Last year, the head cheerleader at my high school got pregnant. My brother's girlfriend is dealing with some birth mother issues. One of my friends is in a wheelchair, because of an accident when he was a kid. His ex- girlfriend faked a stutter because she was so nervous about giving a report, because people can be cruel when you don't do well in class. My brother crippled a mail-man. The cheerleader said that the baby was my brother's, when really it was his best friends.

I broke down because a bully threatened my life because I'm gay.

We feel. Every day. And every day it's a fight. And it's been a rollercoaster for as long as I can remember.

How in the world could the boys here have problems like the ones my friends have?" Kurt demands to know.

"You're friends?" Blaine questions.

"My ex-classmates." Kurt corrects himself.

"Look," Blaine begins, "I know that those boys brag about their trips, but many of them don't even know when their parents are gone, unless they see a missing toothbrush. Many of them were raised my nannies until they were old enough, and then raised themselves. They have get good grades and do the right extra- curricular activities, to go to college, to become like their parents. Their parents will freak-out over a 'B'. They don't have to deal with poverty, but they do know pain. It's not on the same level, but they still have it."

Kurt takes in all of what Blaine said.

"You went to a public school, right?"

Blaine has a stoic expression on his face. "Yes."

"So you kind of understand. Sometimes I feel like we're all robots here- none of us unique, or free to express our style. I try to work with the dress code as much as I can, but sometimes I want variety. Sometimes I want to express my opinion and not the common opinion." Kurt reasons more to himself than Blaine.

Blaine shrugs. "I guess that I've gotten used to the uniform. I don't mind it much anymore. "But I do see what you mean. I guess that Dalton is all about the formal education. You can get into almost any college just by having it on your transcript. I guess it's just two more years of being a number."

Kurt shrugs again.

"And there's this thing about being who you are and loving it. Dalton doesn't like the differences or the awkwardness. The Warblers meeting was so awkward. It wasn't even bad, but it's like they weren't even on my wavelength."

"Maybe it just takes some time to get used to." Blaine offers as much as he can.

"Maybe." Kurt contemplates.

A prolonged tear drips from his eye, he dabs his eye with a pieces of toilet paper that he had been folding into an accordion Kurt shuts the stall door. He needs a moment to think, a moment to breathe.

Kurt can hear Blaine sitting down on the bathroom floor, and he feels loved to know that Blaine would do such a gross thing for him. "I'll be here when you're ready to come out and go to class or talk. I can't promise you more than fifteen minutes until the administration comes looking for us, though."

Kurt sighs. "That should be fine." He sniffs. "Thanks, Blaine."


End file.
